


The Lion's Den

by bourbon



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: M/M, Pining, Roy is such a sap, and even worse when he's drunk, please don't use Roy as a role model and drink to forget about your feelings, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9134197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bourbon/pseuds/bourbon
Summary: “A shot of whatever is in that bottle. No, the green one next to it.”, he pointed somewhat in the direction of the desired alcohol. He had no idea if you could make a shot out of that but the bottle was pretty. Speaking of pretty things.“I mean, why is he so pretty? It’s not fair.”, he complained. Whops, and there he goes again. When he was sober again Roy really needed to kill himself.OR the one where Edward comes back to Central being all grown up and Roy needs to get drunk immediately.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Tada! A birthday present for my lovely bro, Anna(L)-chan. I just really love the idea of Roy starting to gosh over Ed when he’s drunk. 
> 
>  
> 
> This fic takes places several years after the Promised Day, so Ed is twenty-ish and Roy is in his mid-thirties. Greed is old as heck, haha. Please note that this is written by someone who only ever got real drunk once in her life and has therefore no real knowledge on the drinking business. Or on drinks in general. Seriously, don’t be like Roy. Alcoholism is not the answer to anything (except if you ask: What should be avoided?) 
> 
>  
> 
> Also I wasn’t too sure about the New Year’s tradition since firework is a summer thing in Japan and not really that common there for New Year. I don’t think that firework has been a long tradition in western countries either but let’s just call this an AU where fireworks are the way to celebrate New Year. 
> 
>  
> 
> On another note, english is in fact not my mother language and I have reaaally big problems with distinguishing american and british english. Or any kind of certain english. So it might happen that I use a british expression and an american one in the same sentence. I wouldn’t be able to tell. If it does happen, give me a heads up. Talking about british things. I might have slipped a scene from a certain BBC show in there ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It was new year’s eve and Roy felt the urge to get drunk immediately. That during this particular day it was socially accepted to get smashed like a sixteen year old teenager who tried liquor for the first time and wildly miscalculated how much he could hold up served him right. Nobody would ask any questions about his hangover the next day - mainly because everyone would be to fed up with their own hangovers to care about others. Not Riza though. No she wouldn’t touch anything alcoholic because it could slow her down and she was always ready to fight. Maybe, Roy mused, he would be able to coax her into a single glass of champagne once he finally became führer. But knowing his best friend she would probably just stare him down and remind him that they needed to tighten the security even more now that he was führer. So maybe Riza would be there to ask questions but thanks to New Year’s he would have the perfect alibi.

There was no way he was getting drunk in one of the (inofficial) military bars. Not only did nearly everyone there hate his guts but he also had a reputation to hold. It was impossible for him to still have a mysterious flare when people saw him sobbing into his beer. Not that he would sob. Or cry. Maybe he would shed a single very manly tear - thank you very much. Actually he couldn't go anywhere people would recognize him which didn't leave that many options. Damn his unforgettable handsomeness and his high military rank. Things used to be a lot easier when he was still a private.

With a sigh he made his way to the lion's den. Trust bar owners to pick the dumbest name possible for their establishment.

The only good thing about the lion's den was that even if people recognized him, they didn't give a fuck. It was probably (if not surely) the shadiest bar in Central and the customers there were just as pathetic as Roy felt. When he entered the bar he was very glad about two things. Firstly that he had chosen this bar because the festive New Year’s mood was at zero and he was so fucking thankful that he didn’t have to deal with sappy drunks who did countdowns and bawled about how the next year was going to be the best year of their life. In the lion’s den everyone minded their own business except when they were looking for a fight which brought Roy to the other thing that he was relieved about. He send a quick prayer to whoever was listening - he was neither very religious nor atheist- that he had changed out of his military uniform before making his way to the pub because he would have gotten into a fight the moment he entered the room. In his civilian clothes though nobody spared him a second look except a woman at the bar who checked him out way too obviously. At any other night he would have flashed his best seductive smile and made his way over to her but not tonight. Tonight he just needed to get drunk. He needed to forget.

The tables were already occupied so he did end up sitting at the bar but he carefully chose the seat furthest from the very much attractive woman who seemed definitely interested. He really needed a drink right now.

“Scotch.”, he told the barkeeper tearing his eyes from the woman. Not her. It was a bad idea. Her hair didn’t have the right color. Not the right length. She just wasn’t the right person. He was so fucked.

“Double?”, the man on the other side of the counter asked while taking a glass from the shelf. Roy was tempted to answer “Just fuck me up” but then decided to just nod. He didn’t trust himself not to start babbling at this point. If that guy would just hurry up and give him his drink - or even better the whole flask.

“Didn’t think I would live to see the majesty himself in my humble bar.”, a voice said behind him. Roy turned halfway to glare at the intruder and only nearly suppressed a groan when he recognized the man who was standing there looking way too smug. Why was he looking smug in first place anyway? Someone who thought that a vest with fake fur equaled fashion had no reason to be smug about anything. Seriously, who thought that wearing sunglasses in at night was a good idea? There was a reason why he usually avoided the lion’s den at all cost but in his desperation to get smashed he had clearly forgotten about it.

“Humble, my ass.”, he muttered into his glass. He had long given up on reminding Greed that he wasn’t the führer just yet. Not that he had many occasion to do so luckily. He had only seen him a couple of times after the Promised Day but it still felt like far too often. The homunculus clearly took this as invitation to sit next to him and nodded to the barkeeper- who nodded back and took out another glass and filled it with some kind of liquor. Roy didn’t pay attention because he didn’t care about Greed’s drinking preferences.

“Best thing about owning a bar is the free booze.”, Greed told him in a solemn voice. Instead of pointing out that as a bar owner he still had to buy the liquor in first place and just minimized his profit by drinking it himself Roy chose to drink. Weirdly enough his glass was already empty. But then again he was sitting next to the most annoying person he could imagine (Major Armstrong excluded) so maybe not so weird.

“Another.”, he told the man behind the counter and pushed his empty glass in his direction.

“It’s on the house.”, Greed said with a handwave to the barkeeper who just nodded. For some reason Roy felt the urge to inform the homunculus that he wouldn’t be able to keep his bar if he kept giving free drinks to anyone. Whatever, it wasn’t like Greed’s bad business decisions affected him in anyway. So he just raised a questioning eyebrow because no matter how many drinks Greed would buy him that would definitely not happen. “Every friend of Ed’s is my friend.”, the homunculus explained with a sly smile as Roy took his refilled glass out of the bartenders hand.

And there is was. Roy flinched as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Ed. Ed. Always Ed. Wherever he turned, no matter how hard he tried to forget. Edward was always there. Hastily he took a deep slug of his drink nearly spilling it over his shirt.

“I don’t think you could call what Fullmetal and I have friendship.”, his mouth said before his brain could catch up. Okay, that sounded wrong. Fuck. Fuck him and his stupid life choices. “I’m just his commanding officer, that’s it.”, he added in a desperate attempt to cover up the implication he just made. He took another sip. If he kept drinking at this rate he would end up on the floor faster than expected. He made a mental note to switch to beer for his next drink. Greed just hummed in response and emptied his own glass.

Another round for me and my friend, the führer.”, he told the bar keeper and for some reason Roy felt incredibly sorry for that man in this moment. Having to serve your lazy ass boss every other night seemed like a nightmare. But then again he did like giving his team stupid assignments to keep them on their toes so maybe he wasn’t really the one to talk.

“Not the führer.”, he said into his nearly empty glass. “Not yet.”

“Give it a year or two.”, Greed answered while shoving a new glass into his hand and animated him to drink. “Gotta say, I’m a bit envious about the whole leader of the country shit. All that power. You could have everything you want.”

Roy snorted in his glass. The human incarnation of greed wanted power, no shit. He didn’t really understood why Greed still lived his life like he did before the Promised Day - the only differences were that he had a new team of rescued chimeras and his bar was in Central instead of Dublith. With the Father dead Greed had no real reason to lay low but since it made his life a lot easier Roy wasn’t about to complain.

“Not everything.”, he heard himself saying and stared angrily at the reflexion of himself in his drink. Roy kind of hated his drunk self right now. Fucking traitor. But since his throat felt dry he took another gulp. The next round would be beer, he swore to himself. Or maybe water until he didn’t act like a lovestruck idiot anymore. “Can’t have what I want the most.”

Did Roy ever mention that the drunk version of himself was the dumbest person in Amestris? That was the reason why he normally didn’t get drunk in public. Tipsy, yes. But drunk? That was far too dangerous since all his well kept secrets started to roll off his tongue. Secrets he had buried so deep inside of him that he sometimes didn’t even know of them himself. Damn, when did drinking start to make him so melodramatic?

“Feel you.”, Greed agreed in a low voice. When Roy glanced over to him he noticed that the homunculus had taken of his sunglasses. He was staring into his drink like it gave his life a new meaning. With a sigh Roy ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t drunk enough for the conversation they were having.

“A shot of whatever is in that bottle. No, the green one next to it.”, he pointed somewhat in the direction of the desired alcohol. He had no idea if you could make a shot out of that but the bottle was pretty. Speaking of pretty things.

“I mean, why is he so pretty? It’s not fair.”, he complained. Whops, and there he goes again. When he was sober again Roy really needed to kill himself. Why was he having this conversation with Greed of all people? How was this his life? But since he already started on the topic his mouth didn’t seem to be able to stop. “It’s just, everything is pretty about him. Everything. How is he even for real? Have you seen him? I mean of course you have but have you really looked at him?

Everyone notices his hair, of course they do,and dear god if he ever decides to cut his hair I’m going to establish a day of mourning because damn, it’s just so pretty. I should make a law that prohibits him from cutting his hair.”

There was a brief pause when Roy exed the shot that was placed in front of him. His head was very light just like his heart. Letting all his feelings out seemed like a good idea in the moment.

“I heard he dyed his hair before. That should also be prohibited. I mean the color matches with his eyes. I’ve never seen something like this before. And if it would just be the way he looks I could get over it. Maybe. But his personality. Of course he has an awful temper and problems with authority because of course he does. But he’s been through all this shit in his life and he is still so...so whole. Life just keeps trying to break him but he just won’t. He fights every goddamn day. You look at him and it’s like staring into the sun.”

“Don’t get me started on the leather pants.”, Greed agreed (heh) sounding somewhat pained. Roy turned to his seatmate and scowled. Which meant he tried to scowl but he wasn’t so sure if he pulled it off.

“You are-l?”

“Who isn’t?”, Greed countered with a shrug.

“Fair enough.”, admitted Roy and hold out his hand to clink glasses with Greed but noticed halfway through the procedure that his glass was empty again. Why did bad things keep happening to good people? He buried his face in his hands. “Fuck, I’m so pathetic. I’ve known him since he was twelve. Twelve. This is so wrong.”

“Well, he isn’t twelve now.”, Greed offered his somewhat dubious moral support. It was neither helpful nor made it Roy feel better. Roy told him as much whereupon Greed just led out a scornful laugh.

“So you guys have a little age difference, what’s the big deal?”, the homunculus asked shrugging clearly unbothered by Roy’s problems.

“I wouldn’t call _fourteen_ years a little.”, Roy mumbled into his glass. When did it became full again? Did he ask for another round or did the bar keeper just fill it because he saw the empty glass? Either way that man was a good man. One of the very best.

Greed leaned in and Roy was greeted with the smell of cigarette smoke. He wrinkled his nose. “Try a hundred and forty and we’re still not getting close to the age gap I have with that kid.”

Roy knew a challenge when he saw one. Or maybe he just got really competitive when he was drunk. Tomayto, tomahto. Whatever. “I was his superior.”, sure he wasn’t his boss anymore since Ed quit the military right after the Promised Day but he spent nearly five years in the power position of their work relationship which made it difficult to truly see each others as equals. And taking advantage was about the last thing that Roy wanted to do.

“I kidnapped his brother once.”

“I used him as a tool and manipulated him so it would serve my goals.”

“I killed a lot of people.”

“Well _I_ killed a lot of people, too.”

“I’m quite literally a sin.”

They were silent for some minutes while Roy was desperately trying to think of a way he was undeserving of Edward Elric hat he hadn’t used so far. He couldn’t lose against someone like Greed.

“I would never be able to have a public relationship with him not only because it breaks several laws but because it’s also career suicide.”, he found himself saying out of the blue surprised by his own honesty. “He would always be my dirty little secret while I preserve the facade of the womanizer and he is too important to be put on the sidelines. He deserves someone who doesn’t have to hide their affection.”

What started out as a playful game between them had pushed Roy into a spiral of regret. Fuck, he was the worst scum on earth. How did he think that Edward would feel anything but hatred for him? He had killed so many people with the snap of his fingers that he wasn’t even able to keep track of it. Someone who treasured the importance of human life like Ed did wouldn’t want someone like him. Someone whose hands were tainted with the blood of not just his enemies but also of innocent bystanders. Ed wouldn’t- he-

His face buried in his hands he tried to pull himself together. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Calling him Edward or jut Ed -even if it was just in his mind- was a dangerous game and he needed to be careful. If he kept thinking of him that way he would slip eventually and he couldn’t afford that. It was way easier when they were Brigadier General Mustang and Fullmetal. They would snark and everyone would think the tension between them came from the insults that were thrown around and not by that fact that he wanted to jump Fullmetal’s bones. If they became Roy and Ed the lines would become blurry and Roy would have a hard time remembering why it was such a bad idea just to lean in and kiss him the next time Fullmetal shouted at him.

“He’s back in town, isn’t he?”, Greed asked ignoring Roy’s break down. He lifted his head slightly and tried to smile which probably ended up in a grimace. It really was annoying that he didn’t have his facial expressions under control when he was drunk.

“Came to see his brother.”, he said. _He stopped by the office and stayed for nearly an hour chatting with everyone., he didn’t say. Asked if he could join the celebration since his brother had to study. I was hiding in my office most of the time because I don’t trust myself around him anymore._ He didn’t notice that he was staring into the nothing and completely zoned out until Greed shook him lightly.

“D-Did you say something?”, he asked wrinkling his nose in confusion when he noticed Greed’s questioning look. The homunculus just laughed, shook his head and finished another drink. How many did that guy had so far and why did he still seem kind of normal? Well as normal as a homunculus could get. Maybe it was the homunculus part that made him more resistant to alcohol. Or maybe it was because he owned the bar and probably spend night after night drinking. Or maybe Roy was just a damn lightweight. Rubbing his index finger against his forehead he tried to remember how many drinks he had himself. He forgot to keep count. Too much, he guessed.

“Water.”, he requested his throat suddenly feeling very dry. His head started to throb and Roy was reminded why Madame Christmas usually cut him off after two drinks. For a terrifying moment he imagined the conversation he would have with his aunt if he would have tried to get drunk in her establishment. Especially the part where he had to tell her that the reason why he wanted to get drunk so badly was that he was an old geezer who apparently lusted after his young inferior. Oh boy, was he glad that he didn’t have to have this conversation tonight. He would also prefer to never have this conversation ever. Not only because it was deeply humiliating but also because he intended to keep his testicles, thank you very much. Shuddering he took a sip of his water. It didn’t help with his aching head but at least his tongue didn’t feel like sandpaper anymore. Small victories.

“We’re pathetic, aren’t we?”, Roy asked after a while. Greed lifted his glass.

“Cheers to that.”

“That’s nothing to be proud of!”

Greed just shrugged and continued drinking. Roy sat there thinking about how fucked his love life was his index finger circling around the rim of his glass. He should really stick with water for the rest of the night.

“I still haven’t decided if I’m thankful that he wore his dumb red coat most of the time or if I detest it. If he didn’t wear it I would have probably just spend the entire time watching his ass.”, Greed mused thoughtfully. He had switched to beer now not that Roy cared for Greed’s drinking choices.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”, Roy retorted dryly and Greed huffed a laugh. “No seriously, if he was to re-enlist in the military I would fight for a way that he can stay in his civilian clothes. Let me tell you one thing, those military pants are the worst thing when it comes to checking out someone else.”

Greed snorted and nearly spilled his drink on his vest. It wouldn’t have been tragic. Since that thing was ugly as heck. As heck. Who the hell said that these days? Nobody that’s who but still it was kind of funny. It really wasn’t but Roy was drunk and beyond caring so he snickered to himself like he just made a good joke. Which he did. In his head.

“I mean he’s so pretty, it’s a crime. How am i supposed to concentrate on work, huh? Damn those fraternization laws.”

“Rules are meant to be broken.”, Greed chimed in with a sly grin on his face but Roy just flipped him off.

“Aaand that’s the reason why you’re not in charge of anything. You could have made military career after the Promised Day but you’re just...you. So no.”

Greed looked mildly offended but Roy had already turned the other away from him.

“Have you seen his eyes? It’s blinding. Just like looking into the sun-”

“Oi, who are you talking to?!”

Roy stopped talking to the empty bar stool beside him for a moment to give a Greed a confused look followed by a “Huh?”. The homunculus was about to say something when the fire work started. For the last hours they had been drinking to forget their day but now they were reminded that it was New Year’s Eve. Nobody in the bar looked too happy about that though. The woman from earlier must have already left because Roy didn’t see her in the crowd anymore. Normally people would pay their bill, go outside to see the firework and maybe return to the bar afterwards but in the Lion’s den nobody seemed to be in a hurry to leave. He would have considered getting one last drink in disguise of a celebration but his head was getting heavier with every second that passed.

*************************************************

“When are we going to call it a night and close?”, Miguel asked sounding very tired. Working on New Year’s Eve was exhausting and it was still the first month that he worked for him, so Greed was going to let this one slide. He didn’t need to look around to know who their last customer was. Mustang’s head was resting on the counter, his hands were persistently wrapped around an empty glass and he was muttering something in his sleep. He had been like this for the last twenty minutes. Greed let out a yawn. Drinking with the Führer wasn’t as much fun as he imagined it to be. The entertainment factor was big but he was surprised to find out that Mustang couldn’t handle his liquor. It wasn’t even four in the morning and the man was already drooling on his bar.

“As you can see we still have a gue-”, Greed started to answer but was interrupted by someone who barged through the door. He turned around to the intruder.

“Yoo, I’m here to pick up the drunk basta- What the heck are you doing here, Greed?”

“I own the place.”, Greed pointed out while giving the intruder a once over. Edward Elric who really had grown up _nicely_ since the last time he had seen him folded his arms in front of his chest and scowled. Nothing much had changed about his personality then. What a pity. “Don’t give me that disbelieving look. I also owned the Devil’s Nest back then.”

Ed scoffed and made his way over to them. Once he stood at the bar he seemed to remember the reason why he had come here. He glanced at the sleeping Mustang and frowned. “How much did he have?”

Greed just shrugged. “Didn’t count.”, he held up his hands in surrender when Edward glared at him. Even without his alchemy the older Elric was intimidating. “It was not my place to stop him anyways. He came here with the intend to get shitfaced and he did, hooray.”

“How am I supposed to get the fucker to his house when he can’t walk on his own, huh?”, Ed argued waving his hands in direction of Mustang who was still happily drooling. “The bastard’s heavy.”

“Your problem not mine.”, Greed observed leaning back in his chair and propped his right elbow on the counter. “You could have brought reinforcement.”

Instead of hissing and stomping his feet Edward just snorted. Maybe he did change a little after all. “Yeah, not happening. Even Falman is too drunk to walk in a straight line.”

Mustang choose that exact moment to wake up, glare around the bar and then vomit all over the floor. Ed wrinkled his nose in disgust, Greed checked if his shoes were undamaged and Miguel who had been polishing glasses for the last hour went to the back door with a sigh probably to get cleaning supplies. The smell of vomit made Greed nauseous himself and he switched over to breathing through his mouth.

Relieved that his shoes didn’t have any vomit on them Greed turned back to Ed who had grabbed Roy by the collar.

“Oi, you fucking bastard! You nearly vomited all over my- THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO FALL ASLEEP AGAIN, ASSHOLE!”, Edward fumed shaking his former employer quite violently. It was a small miracle that Ed hadn’t stepped in the pool of sick in his rage. The bodily harm must have worked in some way because the Führer opened his eyes again and blinked at the furious man in front of him.

“‘R-really like your hair.”, he mumbled smiling like the drunk idiot he was. “So pretty.”

And then he passed out again. Edward looked like he was a second away from dropping Mustang in his own vomit. Too bad that Ling had gone back to Xing because this was some quality entertainment right here.

“I’m gonna kill him once he’s sober.”, Ed cursed under his breath and maneuvered Mustang back to his seat. Greed just hoped that he didn’t start to drool again because Miguel came back from the back with cleaning supplies and an extremely pissed look on his face. Okay, that was be a lie. It would be rather hilarious to see Miguel finally crack. He had already spend a month acting like the most annoying shit in front of his new barkeeper but all he got was an occasional eye roll or a snort. So. Boring.

“You can’t blame a guy for being lovestruck.”, Greed pointed out as he hoped of his stool and cleared the space for Miguel to clean. The only reaction he got from his employee was a brief head nod before he started cleaning. The guy wasn’t even muttering under his breath. What a weirdo.

“Just how drunk are you two useless dumbasses?”, Edward shook his head slightly as he checked for Mustangs pulse. The Führer didn’t stir but since Ed stayed calm, he was probably alive. “As if the future leader of Amestris would want anything from a dumb amputee that keeps fucking everything up.”, he mumbled quietly. Greed knew that it wasn’t meant for his ears so he said nothing.

“Do you have a phone in the back?”, Ed had turned around to him again and shot him a questioning look. Greed waived in the direction of the backdoor. Edward took it as invitation and made his way across the room.

“Good luck getting a cab driver in this part of town.”, he called after Ed who promptly turned on his heels and strode back to them. The automail hand grabbed his vest and suddenly Greed found himself just a few inches from Edwards apart. The eyebrows were drawn together in anger and the look in his eyes was downright murderous.

“Stop talking shit and be useful for once or I’ll kick your sorry ass all the way to Xing.” Greed was about to open his mouth to say that in fact he was happy to finally see Ling again after four years, when Ed added: “On a second thought I might just let you starve in the ruins of Xerxes.” He closed his mouth. It didn’t matter whether or not homunculus could actually starve because the look in Ed’s eyes promised murder and he really didn’t want to find out what the pissed off Elric could do without alchemy. In some ways he was even scarier than he was before. Back then when he had this alchemy skills that let the highest ranking military alchemist look like bloody amateurs he still had been a kid full of idealistic and pacifistic dreams. Now however Greed was standing in front of a man who had seen the worst of humanity and gambled with life too many times to be naive anymore. A man who’d seen war after war and who kept going despite everything that had happened to him.

 _You really grew up, huh._ He wanted to say. “Let me make a call, I know someone with who can drive you.”, he said instead.

********************************************

Roy wakes up to the songs of birds singing and the sun shining gently on his face. Who was he kidding, he woke up because he someone opened the curtains in his room with a swing and he had to hide underneath his blanket. His head was aching like lots of tiny people were hammering against it. He wondered briefly if he was on a boat because everything was moving underneath him but he remembered that he was home in his bed. How did he get there?

“Sir.”

It felt weird sometimes having his best friend being so formal with him but then again Riza Hawkeye wasn’t exactly what you call average. Still, she would only call him Sir when it was work related so he might actually need to get up. Fuck him and his life choices.

He poked his head out and blinked at the blinding sunlight. Far too bright. He closed his eyes for a second but then forced himself to open them again.

Riza stood next to his bed who held out a razor for him. Groaning he massaged his temples. When he became Führer waking up so early after New Year’s would become illegal. He would make a law against it.

“I thought that you thought that this whole ‘New year new me’ thing is bullshit?”, he questioned weakly. Riza just stared back unimpressed. How did he deserve this kind of treatment so early in the morning? With a sigh Roy asked, “I don’t know where your sudden aversion against it comes from. You like the beard.”

“I never said that. And I wouldn’t really call it a beard. It’s more of a-”

“It’s too early to be judged by you.”, Roy interrupted. He took offence that the first thing that she did in the New Year was to insult him.

“It’s two in the afternoon, Sir.”, pointed out nodding towards the windows. Roy tried to follow her gaze but the light was still too bright for him. He blinked a couple of times wondering if hiding his head under his pillow was an option in this conversation. Somehow he doubted it.

“That’s still too early.”

“Edward doesn’t like the mustache either.” Roy shot her a narrow eyed look. That was utter foul play. Not that he cared anyway. What did that matter to him? He liked his mustache just fine. It made him look more intellectual. Sophisticated even.

“I do not shave for Edward Elric.”, he clarified as he grabbed the razors out of Riza’s hand, pushed the blanket away and made his way to the bathroom.

“Whatever you say, Sir.”


End file.
